


Peter and the Locked Box

by Blooboop



Category: Original Work
Genre: POV First Person, can nanowrimo even count as a fandom?, i mean i'll start it but still, wtf am i supposed to tag this stuff with
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8463034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blooboop/pseuds/Blooboop
Summary: After a surprise visit from his Grandma, Peter finds himself charged with the defense of an old family heirloom.
A thing for Nanowrimo 2016. This is unedited, and the title/warnings/plot/everything may be subject to change. I'm gonna try to post a chapter every day and finish by the deadline, but I guESS WE'LL SEE HOW WELL THAT WORKS.





	1. Chapter 1

Do you ever have those moments when you hate your family? Like, you still love them, but you really _hate_ your family? I do. I have them a lot. I have them especially when things like this happen.

It all started with a visit from Grandma. Fun, right? She normally is, but when she showed up on our doorstep that afternoon, something was wrong. I couldn't tell you what tipped me off if I tried, but I knew it.

"Hello, dear. It's been awhile," she said to Mom when she opened the door, letting chilly air in. Dress smooth, hair pulled back in a bun, she was just as well-dressed as ever. But in her hands, where she usually had a small purse, there was a sizeable locked Box. I swore I'd seen it before.

"What's that?" Bobby's voice startled me out of a stupor. A stupor? Me? That Box _was_ weird. Whatever it was, I didn't like it. But it wasn't exactly up to me to get rid of it, so I, along with Bobby, turned to someone who could. "Mom?"

She looked back at us sheepishly, the traitor. "Bobby, Peter, could you give us some space?" She sounded friendly, but we both knew that was Mom code for 'get lost,' so we skedaddled into the other room. We could've gone further, but I caught Bobby around the waist and scooped him up before he could keep going. I slapped my hand around his mouth before he could yell for Mom.

"Stop!" Bobby was doing that annoying wriggly thing little kids his age do. "Do you wanna get caught?"

Bobby stopped wriggling, pulling my hand off his mouth instead. "Don't have to get caught if we don't do it! Eavesdropping is _bad_. Mom said so."

I sighed on him. "Mom says a lot of stuff. You can't believe _all_ of it." There was no way that'd convince him, but I had to at least make sure he wouldn't sell me out. "C'mon, what's it gonna hurt?"

Bobby scrunched his face up, but nodded. Success! I let him go. It was the least I could do. He went down the hall, away from where Mom and Grandma were meeting, and I slunk closer. Mom could be perceptive when she wanted to, and I didn't wanna get on her bad side. Bobby might be a spineless brat, but even he could tell when things might get bad.

It didn't take me long to get close enough to hear snips of conversation. They were sitting together on the couch in front of our coffee table, speaking quietly about something. Probably that Box, since they kept glancing over at it. Grandma looked pretty serious about something, and Mom was looking nervous. Why? It was a strange Box, but just a Box. I crept closer.

The Box was about backpack-sized. It'd fit inside a backpack, but shoving it in one would end up filling most of the bag. The entire thing was a rounded cube, with no clear-cut corners I could see. There was one opening about two-thirds of the way up the Box. It looked like the top swung up to open. It was made of what looked like some kind of wood-stone mix, smooth and speckled brown in color. The only thing that stuck out even a little was this metal covering running along the opening and edges. I knew that the metal was some kind of brass, but looking at it glimmer, I swore it was gold. The bottom of the Box was more heavily covered with the metal than the top, and it was either creeping up the edges or pouring down from the opening. A globule of it sunk down and curled around a keyhole: the only way it could get out.

I pulled my attention away from the Box and back to the conversation. Both my mom and my grandma were staring at me. Shit.

"Peter," Mom said.

"...Yes?" I tried to put on my best innocent smile.

"Could you come here a moment?" It didn't work.

For a moment, I thought about just jumping up and making a break for it. I could make it, too! But Mom looked like she meant business. Running now would only hurt me. At least she didn't look too mad. I hoped.

I trudged over to the couch, looking over at the front windows. It was fall, and most trees had lost at least half their leaves by now. There was a slight breeze outside, pulling more leaves off the trees to pile on the grass below. It was quite pretty.

"Have a seat." I sat.

"Peter, what do you know about this box?"

...

What?

"Peter, do you remember the stories your grandfather and I used to tell you?" Grandma cut in then, saving me from the sun and magnifying glass that was Mom's stare. It wasn't a mean stare, but it wasn't a friendly one, either. It was a careful and calculating one. I'd never seen it before. I tried to ignore it, looking at Grandma instead.

"Kinda, I guess? It's been awhile, but I remember the gist of them." I did. Her and Grandpa in their younger days; the adventures they had and the responsibilities they held. Stories about living up to the family name, I guess. "Does this Box have something to do with it?" I wasn't sure if I was supposed to ask - Mom was still staring - but why not? It wasn't like it could get worse.

Grandma smiled. "Yes, it is. You always were bright for your age, Peter." She looked down at the Box. "This box was one of the things your grandfather and I would tell you stories about. It's an heirloom of sorts. Members of our family have always protected it and made sure it remained..." She paused a moment here, mentally grasping for the right word, "undisturbed. Your grandfather and I have watched it for many years while your mother has been busy working and taking care of you, and now it's your turn."

"I cannot say what will come of this or what to expect, but I know that you will be able to work work through this," Grandma picked up her cane and started pulling herself off the couch and back up onto her feet as she spoke. "I cannot tell you what is in the box or why it needs to be watched, but I have no doubts that you will understand soon. You always were a bright boy. I have faith in you."

"Mom?" Mom's eyes pulled off me finally, and switched from searching to scared when they found their way to Grandma. "What's this all of a sudden?" She got to her feet, too. I could feel my throat start to squeeze in anxiety. Did that mean Mom didn't know what was going on, even though she was a part of that conversation? What is this?

Neither of them answered, and I was left to dumbly follow them back to the door. Grandma paused a moment and turned back toward us before walking out the door, like she was considering something. She decided to hug us both, clutching onto us for just a second before she left. The Box was still on the coffee table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally did not even have a plot for this prior to November 1st. Fun!


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby had taken up poking the Box. Mom and I sat awkwardly across from each other, not speaking. Even though Bobby was making small "ooh"s and "aah"s of interest, the silence hurt.

"Mom? Do you know what this is?" I remembered Grandma saying that she and Grandpa took care of it for a long time, but only because Mom was busy. Maybe she'd know something useful or, better yet, tell me what said useful thing is. I don't want to be the only one out of the loop! She just looked at me for a long moment.

"...It's a box."

"MOM!" She chuckled and slapped her thigh and I knew she wasn't too caught up in whatever just happened with Grandma.

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Peter. It'll just sit in the closet and gather dust, I promise. No big deal."

"Why was Grandma so serious, then?"

Mom stopped smiling. "Because when Grandma was watching it, she couldn't just leave it in a closet." There was a pause, and she grimaced like something just occurred to her. She bent over, elbows on her knees, and started rubbing her temple. She shook her head. "Don't misunderstand. That box is dangerous, but only under certain circumstances. Circumstances that aren't going to pop up unexpectedly. We have nothing to worry about." She sounded confident, but the fact that she clarified made me uneasy.

"...Okay." I don't know why I said it. To this day, I do not know why I just dropped it. (That's a lie; I know exactly why, but I don't want to say. You'll understand later.)

Mom kept staring. After a moment, her eyes flicked down to Bobby, and she smiled fondly. That smile stayed on her face even after she looked back up at me.

"That said, let's get this put away, shall we?"

 

* * *

 

Next thing I knew, I was hauling the thing up the stairs. Mom was at the top of the stairs, beckoning me up, while Bobby darted around behind me, trying to catch up to Mom. It was precarious, to say the least.

"Come  _on,_ Mom!" She was taking forever, and there wasn't even that much in the closet!

"Oh, hush. I just have to find the right space! A little effort now will save more for us in the long run, you know." What the hell was that supposed to mean!?

"That's nice, Mom, but I can't really keep this up!" Literally. Who knew the box was so heavy? I swore there had to be way,  _way_ more metal on it than I thought: there was just no way wood alone could weigh this much. No way. Not possible. Why was I still carrying this, again? "Alright Mom, I'm coming up!"

"So impatient! That's okay. I'm already done!" She stood up and stuck her tongue out me as I moved into her place to set down the Box. That jerk. She burst into giggles at her cleverness. "See! Fits like a glove." I stepped out of the space and she stepped around me, moving in and re-covering the back space with the hanging clothes. I couldn't see the Box anymore.

Bobby started giggling too. "No problemo! We did it!" He stuck his arms out and jumped up.

Their laughs were catching, and I joined in. "That ended quickly. The way Grandma was talking about it, I thought it'd be way worse."

"Nope! Painless, right? As a mother, I know how to do these things." Mom stopped laughing and stuck her hands on her hips triumphantly. She then turned on her heel, walked back down the stairs a little, and turned back to us, motioning with her hand down the stairs. "Come on, then. Let's have some dinner."

Dinner went well. We sat, just the three of us, around the table, happy and making jokes. Bobby tried jumping up a few times - "I'm not hungry! He'd say - but he wasn't tough to catch. The Box hadn't caused problems and we weren't worried about it. There was no reason to worry or think too much about it. Not for awhile, anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up to a tapping at my window. I brushed it off at first. Maybe I was imagining it, and it could just be something bumping up against my window, couldn't it? I snuggled further into my bed.

The tapping happened a second time, and I remembered that I sleep on the second floor.

I rolled out of bed with an undignified yelp, scrambling up to my feet. I looked at the window with wide eyes. Nothing there. Nothing there? But there had to have been  _something._ I swore there was something there, so I started moving toward it. If there was nothing, okay. A little time wasted, but okay. But if something  _was_ there? I was going to find it.

Definitely.

No hesitation.

That thing was gonna get found.

...

"Urgh." I shuddered. Okay, so I didn't up and prance over to a potentially scary thing. Can you blame me? No, right? Yes? Well in that case, I'm sure you've  _never_ done it, Mr. Pot. At least I made it over there eventually. It wasn't as bad as I was expecting, as these sorts of things usually are. I was just my bedroom window looking down on the front street. No ghosts or ghoulies waiting to snatch me up and make me suffer. Huh. I guessed it really was my imagination. I turned away and started heading back to bed. Why worry about something that isn't there?

There was another tap.

I spun around, suddenly terrified. What the heck? There was still nothing there, and I mean nothing. The street lights outside my window were on, and there was just enough light to distinguish objects. Nothing was out of place. I didn't even see any neighbors going out for an early morning jog! What was this!? I held my breath and stared unblinkingly at the window.

Something shifted and I was done.

I squeaked out a small "mom?" before the thumping happened. It was there. There really was something there, and now it wanted in and wasn't bothering to stay hidden and oh shit I can't see the streetlight anymore that thing's  _HUGE_ and I yelled out:

_"MOM!"_

The thing outside screeched like it was angry at me, annoyed that I had the nerve to give it away, and stopped playing around. The next moment, there was a noisy  _SMASH_ and I was standing there, shards of broken glass having flown off near my feet, looking at what remained of the now-shattered glass barrier. There wasn't much of it. I could only see jagged pieces stuck around the edges of the windows. The thing started crawling through. I hightailed it out of there.

My yelling must have worked, since Mom was already in the hallway, eyes wide. Bobby stumbled behind her groggily. "Peter? What in the world?"

"I don't know! Something's coming in through the window!" I rushed away from the room, not sure how fast the thing was moving. Mom had a better idea. She jumped forward and closed the door. Even after it was done, she didn't move her hands off the thing. She's a real hero. "You saw it, right?"

She turned toward me and gave me a hard look. "...No. I didn't look for it." Did that mean she didn't know what was in there, either? I shuddered. Bobby was in the same spot he was before, now near me. He blinked and looked between Mom and I owlishly. If he wasn't scared yet, he was getting ready to be.

"What do we do?" I didn't know. There was no way I could've known. What was going on?

Mom's lips pressed into a thin line. She turned toward the door,  _my bedroom door_ , and stared down at the floor in front of it. She spoke quietly. "It's the box."

"What?"

"Peter. Get the box out. Right now. Bobby, help him." She nodded toward the closet next to us. I scrambled the foot or so over, pulling Bobby behind me. He was small enough to crawl under the hung clothes and start pulling on it. I pushed the clothes out of the way and started pulling, too. The Box was moved, lying in the hallway, in moments. Something was scraping at the door now.

"Put it in this." Mom was suddenly right next to us, backpack in hand. I started, but she blinked and pulled away. "No. Not yet. Bobby, go to your room."

Something about Mom's seriousness in the last little while had scared him. He shook his head, tearing up a little.

"I'll be there in a minute, sweetheart. Just go to your room."

Even if Bobby didn't want to go, he could only refuse for so long. He ducked back into his room, closing the door behind him. If I had to guess, he was moving to hide under the bed. Mom knelt down to get eye-level with me.

"Peter. You know those stories Grandma tells about her adventures with magic and monsters." It was a statement, and I nodded. How could I not? "They're real stories. All of them. And this," she put her hand on top of the box, "is the reason for it all."

"You didn't te-!"

"I didn't know this was going to happen." She cut me off fast.

"But-!"

"You want to know what's going on?  _Listen to me now._ "

I grit my teeth and nodded.

"Good. Remember everything I'm about to tell you; you don't know whether or not you'll need it. This box is the source of our family's magic. When members of our family reach a certain age, they open the box and receive a power. That's the source of our magic. Depending on what power comes out, we can use it for all sorts of things, but," she patted the top of the Box again, "it's main use is for protection."

Mom focused that blank, blank stare on me and leaned in. "Nothing can get this box, Peter.  _Nothing._ Do you understand that?" I gulped and nodded. She backed off. "Good. You are going to open this box now. It will give you a power. Once you receive that power, you are going to put the box in this," she lifted the hand that still held the backpack in it, "and run like hell. You will not try to fight whatever may or may not chase you. You will not try to figure out what is chasing you. You will not look back, even once. Is that clear?"

There had been a knot building in my gut since I got up to look at my window. It spread up to my throat and tightened. I didn't want to agree, but I couldn't refuse, either. Not with the way she was staring at me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to talk properly, so I nodded again.

"Good. Peter," she grabbed the Box on two edges and turned it toward me, "open it."

"H-"  _THUMP._ The door.  _Shit._ "How am I supposed to do that?" I squeaked out, a little panicked.

"You'll figure it out. Just try."

I stared at it, perplexed. She made it sound so straightforward. There was no key. Or handle, for that matter. How the hell was I supposed to pry this thing open?

_THUMP._

I jumped and reached out, fumbling for the Box's lid. Mom pulled her hands away, sitting back and watching calmly. It was like she didn't even care what was going on in my room. Like it didn't matter. In that moment, I found myself incredibly jealous. I didn't have much time to think about it. My fingers slipped under the lid. What? The Box cracked open with a small  _click._ Wait, what?

Wasn't it locked?

Light was coming out from the Box's opening. It was golden in color, like the Box itself. It wasn't painful, per se, but it hurt. It crackled with energy that sparked up and out. It was buzzing up into his hands and creeping up his arms and it was the strangest feeling, like there were a million different invaders working their way up to reach the top of the hill and become king. I didn't like it and I tried pulling away but my hands his hands were stuck and glued to the lip of the Box or  _something_ because there was no way I would willingly sit here and let this happen, nope. No way, but Mom would. She was just sitting there and letting it happen and I could only feel betrayal because  _why was she letting this just happen!?_  I was stuck and they were getting closer CLOSER and this wasn't going to end well nope no way because it was already happening and i want out i want out mom mom _H eLP_

 

* * *

 

I couldn't feel anything anymore when my brain stopped yelling at me. I was just floating alone in a light golden nothing. I would call it a room, but it really wasn't. It was a colored void, and I was the only thing that existed. Not even. I couldn't feel anything. I've gotten frostnipped before and been unable to feel my toes, but I couldn't even feel that much. There was nothing. Just me and my thoughts. Wasn't it?

Did I just hear voices? Were those whispers?

_Hello?_ I tried to talk but I didn't have vocal chords anymore.

_Hello,_ the Void whispered.  _Welcome back._

 

* * *

 

I was sitting in the hallway and Mom was still staring at me. The Box lay in front of me; my hands were still on its lip. The lid was wide open. There was nothing inside.

"...Are you okay?" I just sat there staring. After a moment, I started breathing again.

"Peter."

I startled and whipped around to face her.

"Peter, it worked. You're okay." I didn't say anything. I just paused a second and nodded. Again. I seemed to be doing that a lot today. Mom reached over and pulled my hands off the Box. They weren't stuck there. Why would they be? She gently closed the Box's lid and pulled the backpack over. "Quickly, Peter."

Somehow, that snapped me out of it. I grabbed the Box and hauled it up, angling it so it could slide smoothly in.  _THUMP._ Right. Mom zipped the backpack up and passed it over to me. I slung it around my shoulders.

"Come on."

We made our way back down the stairs. Quietly. I'm not entirely sure why. There was only the one monster. We went to the front door: the one that had the most direct route to the street. Mom quietly slid the lock open. She stood to the side, her hand on the doorknob. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

She threw the door open.  _"Run."_

I bolted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy stuff is happening.


	4. Chapter 4

The first few yards out the door went fast. I was full of adrenaline and running for my life, even though I wasn't, really. It took me a moment to notice that nothing was happening. I slowed down. Nothing happened. What?

I was standing in the street about a house or so down from mine. Mom closed the door behind me. She'd probably gone up to take care of Bobby like she said she would. There weren't any lights on in the house. I looked at my window, trying to see if there was any movement (or if the window was still broken) but I was standing too far away to tell. I kept standing there stupidly, not sure what to do next.

A jarring realization hit me: this whole thing was incredibly stupid. I'm running away from some kind of monster, okay, I can get behind that, but if I'm supposed to protect, why not try using my powers? Why not fight back? Mom probably had some kind of power too; couldn't we beat that... whatever it was? Besides, where was I even going to go? It wasn't like I ran out here with a plan or anything. Just... what now?

With nothing else to do, I started walking back home. I felt like an idiot. Maybe we all imagined it? I mean, that would've been more likely if only I had seen it, but group hallucinations aren't unheard of, right? Maybe there was nothing wrong, and I could just go back home. I hefted the bag up a bit more. It was heavy. First thing I was going to do when I went back in: put the Box away. Thing was too big to be running around with.

I was a few feet away from my front porch. The door was probably locked, but I could just knock or something. Mom'd let me in.

**_SCREEEEEEEEE-_ **

The thing was on top of me holy  _shit!_ It was still too dark to get a good look at it, but it landed on me with a  _whump_ and I went DOWN. I gagged on its breath as it grabbed me and images started flipping through my head: one of me, lying on the ground with my guts pulled out. One of my family dealing with the aftermath. One of that TV special about bears: how to survive an attack by one.

I flipped over the best I could and grabbed at the back of my neck, trying to cover it. I could only spin onto my side on my own; I wasn't defended at all. But the monster wasn't interested in me. It grabbed onto my back - no, wait, the  _backpack!_ It was grabbing the backpack and pulling me up along with it!

I was hanging by the backpack's straps. The monster was either really tall, or climbing up the side of our house; I was well off the ground. There was still no sign of Mom or Bobby. I wasn't sure whether or not to be happy about that. I kicked my feet and tried to swing to get a better look at what had me, but no dice. I wasn't going anywhere.

I should've listened. I really should've listened. I thought about slipping my arms out of the backpack and letting it just take the Box, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Mom had told me to run and I hadn't and she'd been right. What if she was right about making sure nothing got the Box? I didn't want to find out one way or the other. But what could I do? Opening the Box earlier was supposed to give me some kind of power. Could I use it? Did I even know how.

I held my breath and tried to focus. I could do this. I had to do this.

Something felt like it was bubbling up. Like it was rising to meet me.

I kept focusing. C'mon!

_BOOM_

_**GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-** _

The monster  _screamed_ and I almost joined it. It's grip slipped for a moment. Did I do that? Could I do it again? I started focusing again an-

_BOOM_

_**REAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-** _

I was falling! I tried to brace myself. What do people do in those books? Curl up and-

A third _BOOM_ and something came flying out my bedroom window. It caught me and we hit the ground hard, rolling as we landed. Somehow, we ended up unharmed, standing facing toward the house.

Mom was carrying me. She glared at the monster for a moment before turning back to me. "I thought I told you to run!" She did not look amused. Uh oh.

"I did! For a little while, anyway," I protested as she set me down. "I didn't know where to go!"

She paused. I swear I heard her mutter a small 'you're right' under her breath before responding. "To your Grandmother, of course. So run. Now. I've got this under control." She spun back toward the monster and held her fists up like a boxer. Like she'd done this before.

There was no way the monster was happy, but at least it'd gone quiet. It was eyeing us both, me especially. Probably because of the Box. Whatever it was, it  _was_ important. Mom smacked her hands together to get my attention and glared.

Running. Right.

I took off again, this time for good. The monster roared behind me and I heard movement, but it was followed by another  _BOOM_ and screech of pain. It occurred to me that Mom must have also opened the Box at some point and gotten a power of her own. One that was currently saving my wimpy butt.

There was a strange calmness that came with running down the street. I didn't feel that scared. I mean, it was scary that something could be chasing me, but I trusted that it wouldn't come to that. Mom had it under control. All I had to do now was make my way to Grandma. I hefted the backpack straps to a better position on my shoulders and sprinted away. The roars and booms started getting quieter the further I went. It was almost sad, in a way. I tried to push the thought out of my mind by focusing on what I had to do.

Next stop: Grandma's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It wasn't like I ran out here with a plan or anything." Me too, buddy. Me too.


	5. Chapter 5

Grandma lived in the same town as us then. It wasn't exactly a short walk away, but it could be done by foot. I didn't want to go on foot, especially not if there was a chance any other monsters were going to show up. I didn't know if there'd be a bus or anything this late at night, but I thought I'd check to see if I had any money anyway. I went under a tree by the side of a sidewalk about a mile away from out house and slipped the backpack off my shoulder. I set it down on the grass and started going through it the best I could.

First up: the Box. It was still in there, which was good. No reason it wouldn't be, I reminded myself. I felt a little stupid for thinking that, but whatever. I slipped my hands down around it, checking to see if anything else was in the same pocket. There wasn't. I started going through the other pockets. Nothing there, either. I guess I really did need to go to Grandma's. How was I supposed to make it on my own with this?

I zipped everything up and put the backpack back on. Looked around. There still wasn't any sign of anything nearby. I took a moment to figure out where I was, where Grandma's house was, and started walking.

 

* * *

 

_**Ksssshhhhhh...** _

I didn't get very far.

"Hello, there... Little buddy..." I smiled and waved nervously. This one wasn't anything like the one that showed up at my house. For one thing, I could actually get a good look at it. For another, it was small. Smaller than I was, anyway.

It scuttled on the ground with three pairs of pincers attached to spindly crooked arms. The two front pairs stuck up from its back, and came down to meet the ground. The back pair was smaller and more like a cat's: it tucked under the body. Its head and torso was human-like: it would've looked entirely human if it weren't for the purple-y skin, large and smooth black eyes, and pig-snout nose that flowed into a hare-lip mouth. It had messy short black hair. It was almost cute.

It stood up on its two back arms, rising up to stomach-level. The front pincers came forward awkwardly. They were built to spread out, not focus in on something, but the intent was still clear. It was reaching for me. I bolted.

_**HIIIIIII** _

It was following! What'd I expect, really?

...Let me guess: you're wondering why I'm not as freaked out? Easy.

On one hand, being chased wasn't fun. On the other, this one just didn't seem scary. Not as scary as the first one. Maybe it's that psychological thing - I think it's called desensitization? - but I don't know. It wasn't huge, and there were no obvious ways it could hurt me. It probably  _could_ hurt me, but I don't know. Without the immediate, obvious danger of pain and suffering, it's just not as scary.

It sure was fast though,  _jeez._ I could barely keep ahead of it. How can something so awkward-looking be so quick? It scuttled after me, doing some weird spider crawl-horse gallop movement. I got the distinct feeling that if we were in an elevated area, where we had to climb around, it would've caught up in no time flat. Earlier it'd tried to scramble up poles and trees and pounce on me, but it didn't work very well.

I remembered that Grandma, like Mom, probably had some kind of power to take care of these things. I kept moving.

 

* * *

 

I made it to Grandma's, and the thing was still following me. Kind of.

It gave up at the end of the street, and was just kind of waiting there, from what I could tell. Huh? Did it know it would be in trouble? Where I was headed? I wasn't sure if that'd be a good thing or not.

...Did that really matter right now?

I shook my head and walked down the street, heaving. That thing was  _fast_. I'm still not sure how I stayed ahead of it. I was glad for the break, though.

When I made it up Grandma's porch, I stopped to sit on the ledge that surrounded it, catching my breath. She could wait. Besides, I wasn't going to run in there when I was already safe; I didn't need to present myself like I'd been in real trouble. She'd just make a fuss.

But Grandmothers are like that. They'll kick up a fuss about you no matter what. I didn't have to ring - she opened the door and spotted me on her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started work on this chapter on _November 8th._ It didn't get finished/posted until the 21st.
> 
> I highly doubt this'll get finished in time, but that's okay. I'll probably (slowly) continue work on it 'til it's done. Hopefully.


End file.
